Once More With Feeling
by scumisyum
Summary: The Muggle Music Competition strikes Hogwarts another of Dumbledore's 'awesome' ideas. And this time it's going to be LEGENDARY. disclaimer: anything you recognize, not mine. including title. R&R much appreciated!
1. The Epilogue

Prologue: The 'Bonding Musical Festivity'

A.K.A the crazy old coot's new asinine plan

A/N hello, thinking of actually working on this one; hope there are good reviews. It's a start and I hope people will want to read more. Sit back and enjoy; or hate; that's kind of your prerogative.

"Draco, I'm making your participation mandatory. It's quite final. If you would only cease and desist this unnecessary arguing…" Professor Severus Snape wasn't a patient man; in fact one could say he was the very opposite. Albus Dumbledore had had another one of his brilliant and revolutionary ideas, deeming it worthy of Hogwarts to have yet another 'Bonding Musical Festivity'. All heads of house were to make sure that a prominent member of their said house participated and helped bring school unity a step closer to success… Severus understood this as meaning that unless he managed to get certain of his students to 'volunteer', Albus would be spending even more time trying to get him to make a more potent lemon drop. Volunteers it would be.

"But, Professor, I know that the crazy coot said that we should _want_ to volunteer. I do not want to. In fact I'm very much feeling the very antonym of want; the idea repulses me more than being in close proximity to that know-it-all Granger and I'm sure I need not remind you how much I detest Granger."

Snape sighed. Yes, he did in fact know how much young master Malfoy detested Granger, the significant house points lost to said detestation were quite, _quite_ significant.

"Draco, there will be no negotiating, no bribing and certainly no appealing to your _dearest _and most _esteemed_ Father; it is mandatory and as your Head of House I am _forcing_ you to participate in this blatantly insipid competition. Is that clear?"

By the look on said young master Malfoy's face the message was indeed clear if not desired but as long as there would be some mild form of cooperation, Severus was satisfied.

"I see that we are in _agreement_. Now, I believe you have prefect duties to assume, do find yourself certain musically gifted members to help you; I believe it shall be an enduring year for us all." And with that dismissal, Severus returned to his work; the first years had given in their very first Potion's assignments and Severus couldn't wait to see the looks of dismal ignite on the poor little Gryffindors' faces when they received their marks. A tiny smirk of satisfaction appeared on the greasy Potion's Professor's face. There was some compensation for having to take care of whining spoilt brats; no matter how close one was to their family.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One: The Bands

Draco Malfoy was smoldering and not with sexiness or vengeance but with pure, unadulterated anger. He was near spitting venom and his eyes had turned a disturbingly dark color scaring many of the young ones he was caught seething at; they had heard the rumors. Apparently the Ferret's bite was as bad as its twitch. Draco Malfoy was said to be _very_ twitchy.

The hall leading from Snape's office to the entrance of the Slytherin Corridor seemed to be entirely too long. There were too many oil paintings asking pestering questions or trying to offer advice to "curb that violent streak in you lad" or little midgets who were getting in his way or making strange sob-like sounds.

It was too much.

He had to participate in a muggle-musical chaos fest. He, the pureblood extraordinaire, the heir to the most decadent line of Malfoy and most pure and ancient line of Black; Draco Malfoy was being made to participate, to 'volunteer', to partake in this mockery. He was going to have to go on a stage, Merlin knows where said stage was to be but after all Hogwarts is a school of witchcraft and wizardry, and sing; sing muggle songs…

Muggles songs that could be adapted….

A look of pure evil and mischief appeared upon the Malfoy Heir's face and it was so malevolent a fifth year Hufflepuff who had been lost in the dungeons actually fainted.

Draco finally arrived in front of the portrait that was guarding the not-so-secret entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. He gave the password as is customary and then walked into the Snake's Lair.

The room was cast under low light, its darkness accentuated by the patent leather armchairs and the dark Persian carpets that lay elegantly upon the freezing stone floor, the grand marble fireplace that seemed to flicker to life at a newfound presence and the dark wood framed picture of Salazar Slytherin lay unmoving at its place.

Pansy was sitting in her usual place. Her dark school robes were fitted perfectly and accentuated her every curve and she had prettied her lips with another dark red and very fetching color. However she instantly looked displeased when she saw her former paramour watching her intently from the doorway.

"Draco, I know that look on your face and I know for certain that you aren't admiring my posture, elegance, beauty or refinery so do hurry up and tell me what exactly it is you are planning and how it affects me in any way." And with that she dropped the excellent book on '500 hexes with no counter spells' and proceeded to arch an eyebrow in the direction of the blond boy.

Draco just smirked, trying to paste an innocent and naïve expression upon his face and approached her gracefully.

However, the Slytherin never managed to reach her because he was accosted by a good friend if not particularly sane friend, Blaise Zabini.

"Drake old boy, I know I always say I wished you'd drop dead and leave me your fortune but perhaps approaching Pansy right now might not be the brightest idea you've concocted. Not that your brain isn't bustling with imaginative notions of revenge and petty arguments but the girl hasn't been exactly compliant or agreeable since we've arrived; I believe its got something to do with those feminine issues us men don't like to get acquainted with so perhaps a deviation in your, most probably, well laid plans is for the best. Eh?"

Draco just looked at the other boy incredulously. He had said all that in one breath.

"How do you talk and breathe at the same time? Do you use some kind of spell or have you been experiencing with those muggle drugs again?"

The other Slytherin just laughed, wiggled his eyebrows and then proceeded to grasp Draco's arm pulling him away from the trajectory that was leading him towards Parkinson.

"Draco, honest to Merlin, stop whatever it is you're planning. She's crazy, bonkers, out of her mind, absolutely messed up in the head. I'd say tread carefully if I weren't fearful for your life or those in a five mile radius but I think that any planning should be after precedence of a gift of jewelry, a bottle of Firewhiskey entirely consumed by the man-eater and a lovely pack of cigarettes imported from France. I'm not joking man, the girl's round the bend; she might bite."

Blaise looked worried, scared and yet utterly bemused at the same time. It was rather hard to see what was truly going through his mind but seeing as his grip was becoming tighter every time he mentioned Pansy's mental descent, Draco firmly and quickly removed his strong grip and returned to his initial plan.

As the blond boy started his approach towards the apparently crazy brunet that lay waiting upon the sofa, he turned back towards the crazy loon that called itself a wizard and said, "Blaise, why don't you join us; this concerns you as well," and he continued on his way.

The young Italian wizard just sighed, shook his head firmly, looked at the mirror for any signs of gray hair, pinched his arm and then finally joined the other two magic folk that were looking at him pointedly. He chose to ignore their curious and incredulous gazes.

"So Draco, are you finally going to tell me what I've been just _dying_ to hear ever since you stepped in here? Or am I going to have to endure another of Zabini's rants about my proclaimed madness?" Pansy then turned and looked harshly at the Italian who was obstinately looking at his hands. The girl then returned her gaze to Draco who smiled at her in an utterly wicked fashion.

"I've got an itch I just can't scratch, Pans…" And then he laughed aloud at the shocked look that had come to reside on the other boy's face and the sultry expression that had placed itself on that of the girl's.

"Drake old chap, how _exactly_ does this involve me?" Blaise looked ready to jump and run at any sudden or suspicious movement coming from his dorm mate. Nearby bystanders and eavesdroppers blushed and turned to whisper to one another.

"I'm joking Zabini, it's what people call it when a person says something false or unreasonable to provoke a certain reaction from others. That or an insult but if I were insulting you Blaise I'm quite certain you'd notice." And the blond then shed his look of mischief and turned somber.

"Snape made me volunteer for the MMC," he stated. The other two just watched him blandly, no change in their expression. Draco sighed and added, "The Muggle Music Competition." At this the other two gaped in horror and Pansy even let out a whimper.

"Oh, Draco, I'm so, so terribly sorry! To- to be subjected to such torture! I wouldn't wish that on anyone except maybe Potter. I really do hate Potter." She patted him on the arm delicately and then frowned at the mention of the Boy Wonder, her nose seeming more pronounced when doing so.

"Pansy dear, you should stop frowning, certain shades of disgust aren't good for a girl's complexion; or well, looks," Blaise said and ignored the rather prominent growl coming from their good friend who happened to be a girl. The boy then turned toward Draco and his features scrunched up with confusion.

"Draco, I thought you were supposed to volunteer. If I'm not wrong, volunteering means that you, well, that you actually _want _to participate to the, euh, festivities?"

Draco sighed and pinched his upper nose, and then spoke. "For once, Blaise, you're absolutely right. Volunteering usually means that one desires to join in such a barbaric and disgraceful _merriment_. I did not in fact desire to be part of all this, Professor Snape decided that my partaking would be mandatory and I'm afraid no amount of power will get him to change his mind."

The other two remained silent, waiting for whatever it was that Draco had planned as an alternative; Draco was in charge of all alternative thinking. They had voted: it was unanimous; Blaise had even made him a crown and a music soundtrack. It had been quite amusing to watch him struggling with the spell.

"So, well, I was quite _upset_ as you can possibly imagine. I almost acted irrationally and took out my wand but Severus is my Godfather and it would not do well to hex my substitute guardian. So I walked away and then an idea occurred to me."

Pansy and Blaise held their breaths, waiting for the solution their grand leader would provide but they were sadly interrupted by the apparition of two muscle clad bodies: Crabbe and Goyle.

"You won't believe what we heard!" Crabbe said in an uncommonly loud voice. Vincent joined him in the act of surrounding Draco the two of them resembling hired bodyguards.

"Do tell Vince," Draco said nonchalantly.

"That, um band thing that the Headmaster was talking about" Vince started.

"Yeah, that old geezer like you always call him Draco," Gregory Goyle added. Pansy then swiveled towards him and leveled a rather malignant stare at him. Draco coughed and waved his hand for the two goons to proceed.

"Well, he just announced who the other bands were going to consist of."

Draco looked up then. "So soon?" The two boys just nodded and looked pleased that they had brought some new information, Merlin knows that was the true currency in a house full of manipulators and blackmailers such as theirs.

"We memorized them all. The Gryffindor band is Potter and his minions," the slytherins all sniggered at that, "and the Ravenclaws are Chang and her new boy toy Corner and Terry Boot as well as Luna Lovegood," the Slytherins sniggered again, "and the Hufflepuffs are Smith, Abott, Justin big-gob (more sniggers) and Ernie McMillan."

The Slytherins were near dehydrated with laughter when they heard the members that would be their 'rivals' and then they realized: who would represent their house? Pansy and Blaise both turned towards Draco whom they knew was already involved and waiting for him to renew their hope that their house would not end up massacred and their toasted over a wild fire.

"Well, I suppose now is as good a time as any to start recruiting." And with that Draco just waltzed away; though not literally. That would seem a bit bizarre.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Auditions ladies and gents

Draco Malfoy was determined. He was going to corrupt the system from the inside and make Albus Dumbledore regret the day he came up with this sodding, useless idea. And to that he needed people who had the ability to at least strum two strings and not make a sound only comparable to the screech of a cat. That is if cats screech.

There weren't all that many people standing in the line to be allowed to join the Slytherin House's representative band. About fifty in total and at least thirty didn't have the looks or the right age. What a pity.

Draco Malfoy pinched his upper nose as was quickly becoming a habit and promised himself to curb it by starting a new vice; maybe smoking… But that would be left to contemplate later. Now he had to focus; his house's honor was at stake. Or well, its supposed honor, really.

The first years were the first to start; one of them actually came with a bagpipe: A BAGPIPE! It is only natural that Draco said a few scathing comments that might have led to the first year's flight from the audition room in tears. Said audition room was Professor Snape's most beloved potions lab. Not that dear Professor was aware of the contribution he was making.

After going through the most dreadful moments of his existence, hearing the most awful voices, seeing an actual dance choreography (he was going to have to obliviate that) Draco was pleasantly surprised to see some of his fellow 7th years.

"Gregory, Vince. It's good to see some familiar and reliable faces. What can I do for you?" Draco nodded for them to sit and winced at the painful screech the chairs gave at the added weight but shrugged it off; the furniture wasn't his after all.

"We," Gregory started and looked at Crabbe for reassurance who prodded him and shook his head in encouragement. "Right, um, we'd like to be part of the band. We know we don't look like much, Draco. But we're still alright with our instruments… We won't embarrass you Draco, swear to Merlin."

Draco sat bewildered but then thought, good naturedly, what could be worse? At least they might be there to bear the brunt of the abuse that the band might receive on the stage and if it made them happy; who was Draco Malfoy to say no to such a helpless pair of… raging bulldogs?

"Not a problem, I'd be happy for you to join. Now off with you lummoxes, we need at least one more person." There were no other musically inclined or useful people to be found. It was disheartening. And then Draco Malfoy had the most brilliant, deviant and devious plan. And again, it would involve his good friends and business associates…

A WELL LAID PLAN AND ANGRY PANSY LATER

"DRACO! You little, irksome, bigoted, annoying, bratty, spoilt, vain ARSE! When I get my hands on you and Blaise, because Merlin knows you can't have pulled that off alone, I'll skin you alive and feed your remains to one of that oaf of a Housekeeper's pets! You'll regret the day you were born when I'm through with the two of you!" Pansy Parkinson's voice was roaring and echoing through the silent halls of Hogwarts. Only to be heard by a young Italian wizard who might or might not have a few mental problems.

"What?" Blaise Zabini was pale and shocked and anyone would be wiling to attest to the fact that he actually edged closer to the Gryffindor Trio.

Blaise Zabini was scared; terrified in fact. He had been minding his own business, trying not to be conspicuous after having setting a dungbomb loose in Transfiguration class and was enjoying a private joke between himself and that strange voice that called itself his conscience and resided in his head. All had been fine and dandy, that is until he had heard IT. Pansy Parkinson wanted him dead.

He hadn't even done anything to her. He was quite certain that he hadn't done anything to her as of late anyways. And now he was being hunted, he was certain of it. The girl was positively crazy; any chance she'd get she'd try and poison him. He was absolutely resolutely never drinking anything Pansy ever gave him. NEVER!

So that was why Blaise Zabini was staying in close distance to the Golden Trio, the Boy Who Lived to Save Everyone Other Pathetic Sod's Life and his go-lucky sidekicks. If Pansy tried anything, Potter probably wouldn't even be able to stop himself from saving him. It was a full proof plan. And that is how Draco Malfoy found him; hiding in a nearby corner at close proximity to the Slytherin House's greatest nemeses.

"Blaise; hiding from someone?

Zabini jumped at the sound of someone's voice from behind and nearly suffered an early stroke. He was surprised to see Draco Malfoy looking at him nonchalantly and entirely too relaxed for someone who was on Pansy's death list. That little trollop was vicious.

"Draco, what are you doing? You should be hiding, like me. Or beg Potter and his mini-leprechaun and smarty-cloak to give you their protection. Neither of us is safe any longer. We're doomed, Drake. DOOMED!" And with that last exclamation, Blaise returned to his shadowy corner and tried to appear as subtle as possible once more.

"Blaise, I'll have you know that I've got a foolproof way to avoid imminent death at Pansy's hands." Draco smirked when he saw Blaise peak out of his hideout with a look of relief and curiosity.

"Malfoy, my _dearest amico_, you wouldn't leave a poor _straniero_ to die in this downtrodden country where it constantly rains, now would you? Why not share this willy combination you've got going for yourself?" Blaise placed his arm around his good friend and tried to look blasé.

Draco smirked. And now Zabini had fallen for the bait and was playing right into his hands. "I'd love to Blaise, you know I would, but the only way I could help you was if you were a member of the band. And sadly, you aren't, are you?" The blond Slytherin sighed and started to walk away, counting the seconds until Blaise would crumble and fall to his knees.

"Drake, old chap, wait a minute! I heard that you had a position left on that band of yours! You know I can play the base…"

Malfoy smirked.

He really did have the best laid plans.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: So it begins…

The headmaster of Hogwarts, a school of witchcraft and wizardry, was feeling inordinately proud of himself. Here he was, in a position of power and authority, having all these little children and teachers to answer at his every beck and call; why his every whim or wish could be granted. How utterly exciting!

And now there were all these same students looking up at him, imploring with their eyes for him to make as quick a speech as possible so that they might be fed. Well, it made no sense to keep them waiting; too long.

"And we are gathered together again for another meal," he then looked down at them with a great twinkle in his eye (it's amazing what a good glamour could do), "and I shall announce the Slytherin Band members. Messirs. Malfoy, Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle. I'm sure you shall all join me in applauding them for joining this voluntary competition!" And with that last word, Albus Dumbledore sat down and silence reigned.

"This sucks," Blaise mumbled under his breath until a pretty Slytherin in the year under tapped him on the shoulder.

"I think it's so good of you to represent our house in front of all those unworthy little mongrels. You are _so_ nice." She fluttered her eyelashes at him and walked away. Blaise followed her with his eyes and finally grinned.

"Girls always love the bassist."

The 7th years surrounding him laughed; all excepting Pansy who just smiled in a saccharinely sweet way. The Italian pureblood gulped.

Pansy had forgiven them. Well, that's what she said, but she only let them live because she was to choose the songs they had to sing. Draco liked to live in denial and pretend that leaving Pansy in charge of the musical division would not come back and bludgeon him in the balls.

Denial was a nice place to live.

A WEEK HAS PASSED AND THE BANDS MUST…wait for it… keep waiting… PRACTICE!

They had put all the band leaders in one room. Alone. Unsupervised.

Draco sometimes wondered if the professors actually wanted the students to graduate or if they were organizing a mass genocide.

Potter was sitting on his stool looking dark and brooding; ever since his godfather had died there was just no stopping. Draco had started to refer to him as 'tall, dark and forehead'. He sniggered; Merlin, he was a good laugh!

As if on cue, the Boy Who Wouldn't Die swerved and pierced the blond Slytherin with a hard and certainly harsh glare. "You want to say something, Malfoy?" And thus Draco Malfoy was now the focus point of the room. How grand!

That my dear readers, was sarcasm.

"Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head with Potter. Now, why don't we get to the point?" The ferret boy lifted arched an eyebrow and looked pointedly at the other four band leaders, Potter (obviously), Lovegood (Merlin knows why) and Smith (what an annoying little ponce!).

"You're absolutely right, Malfoy. Why should we all be subjected to each other's company any longer than necessary?" Zacharias Smith added. That little Hufflepuff really was useless.

Malfoy and Potter both snorted and then glared at one another for having the same reaction. A brawl seemed imminent and therefore Luna Lovegood took it upon herself to interject.

"The shmiggles might prey upon us at any instant now. It would be best if we could all just agree to a definitive timetable, then there'd be no squabbling to attract those treacherous creatures. They're quite adorable really but people do get rather frightened by their unique physical appearance."

It was Smith's turn to snort and Potter seemed to relax at the melodious if not completely 'there' voice of Lovegood. All confrontational emotions were diffused and were instead replaced with sympathy, incredulity or downright suspicion.

"Right, well, we'll take the two hours on Friday. And that's definitive, Loony." Malfoy stated and then left the room, robes swirling behind him.

"I really hate him…" Potter grunted and then turned to make rehearsal arrangements and negotiate with the other two.

FRIDAY, THE TWO AFOREMENTIONED HOURS

The room wasn't exactly clean, neat or appealing but nothing that a little efficient magic couldn't arrange. Crabbe and Goyle were bringing the equipment, it really had been divine intervention to add them to the band, and Pansy was looking disdainfully around herself while Blaise was slowly edging away from her and discreetly, or well his own definition of discretion, making towards Malfoy.

"What do you think, Pans?" the Ice Prince asked the dark haired girl, not even turning from his contemplation of a rather suspicious stain on that rag that was probably a carpet and lay neglected on the floor.

"It's… _interesting_ to say the least," Pansy scrunched her nose and asked, "What is that _**foul**_stench? Honestly, Draco. Do you think the Gryffindors did something… _unsanitary_ when in this room?" Pansy carefully stepped out of the room. She looked about ready to burn her new pair of, what she proclaimed were her favorite, shoes. Previously she had stated something along the lines of '_They're Italian leather, made in Paris. What girl wouldn't call them divine?_' Only Paris had been pronounced along the lines of 'Paree'.

"Really Pansy, no need to subject yourself to such strenuous circumstances, we'll understand perfectly well if you decided to remain in the Common Room or join whichever boy-toy it is this week." Draco continued to investigate that blood-like stain. It was just morbidly fascinating.

Blaise looked down to see what exactly the blond was observing. "What exactly are you looking at?" the Italian asked.

"That stain. Don't you think it looks an awful lot like… blood?" The other Slytherin replied.

"Now that you mention it…" Blaise started to respond when they were both ear-boxed by the ferocious brunet who stood glaring at them arms akimbo, her apparent distaste for the place vanished, replaced by an inordinate amount of anger at these two fools that were considered the crème de la crème of the Slytherin House.

The world of today was just depressing.

"Shut up and get to work. We've got to find out everything about muggle music and get you started. Our house will not look like a bunch of unprepared and tasteless fools because you GITS can't keep your mind on the target. We are Slytherins, what do we want?" Pansy pointed a sharply filled nail at them.

"To win," they answered, looking distinctly uncomfortable to be in such close proximity to her.

That's when the two goons walked in. "We've got all the material!" announced Crabbe and Goyle came in bearing amplifiers and speakers, many wires that seemed to be tangled with other wires and left them staring at an unending mass.

"Swell," sighed Draco.

AN UNTANGLED MASS LATER… MUCH LATER

"So, muggle music…" Blaise started. And they all looked at each other and frowned.

Silence reigned.

20 MINUTES LATER

"Muggle music, huh?" Blaise contributed to the ongoing thought process that was occurring in each of the band members and manager (Pansy wanted a title thank you very much) heads.

3 MINUTES LATER

"I got it!" Draco exclaimed.

The others all sighed in relief; they knew there was a reason he had been nominated chief thinker.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Four: I hear sugar high

Chapter Four: I hear sugar high?

A/N Been a while I think. So sorry, and I'd like to thank Ashley Crouch for the review because wow; THANKS! (And that was not sarcasm folks) On with the wacky tale!

"So… Draco old man, you were saying something about an idea?" Blaise asked, looking up from under a pack of open and scattered Chocolate Frog packets, courtesy of Crabbe and Goyle.

"Yes! Yes! The idea! I remember. As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted," Draco turned to glare at the Italian wizard, "my idea is so great and grand that you shall all quiver in devotion."

Pansy snorted, "You're starting to sound like Zabini, hon." The blond Slytherin scowled at her and pretended to flick some non-existing flint off his robes.

"As I was saying, _Pansy_, my idea is going to be a complete success. So, this is my idea," and he proceeded to tell them making Crabbe and Goyle smile or attempt a smile, Blaise practically faint and Pansy smirk evilly. Oh, it was a good plan.

TWO MINUTES LATER

The sneaky slytherins were walking down the halls, trying to appear innocent and subtle. Of course, they failed miserably. It appeared that a group of Slytherins whistling a jaunty tune and smiling and patting young first years on the head didn't pass unnoticed. And of course, it could but only be the savior of the wizarding world, as we know it, who had to come and make his suspicions known.

"Malfoy," yelled Potter the overbearing pratt, "What in Merlin's name are you doing?"

Said Malfoy turned towards the Gryffindor golden boy and rolled his eyes while smirking evilly. "Well, Potter, as you can see I wasn't off torturing innocent firsties or kicking kittens and planning any awful deaths. May I ask what in Merlin's name you think you're doing?"

This snarky come back was rather ruined by the fact that Goyle was standing by Draco and turned towards Pansy, "Potter's not doing anything, is he?" The girl just sighed and patted Gregory on the back. "Don't worry your big head about any of this. It's not like Potter ever does anything."

Blaise started to laugh madly and kept trying to cover it up, attracting most of the attention onto himself. When he had managed to calm himself down sufficiently, he looked at the quizzical green eyes of Potter and Draco's raised eyebrow. He shrugged and said, "Sugar Rush?"

Most of the people who had stopped to stare just nodded as though the explanation had been satisfactory and the first year who's head was being crushed by the weight of Crabbe's hand took advantage of the diversion and ran off to his common room.

"So, Malfoy, as I was saying… What are you doing? Plotting to revive Voldemort, going to sell drugs to the Hufflepuffs? What?" Potter demanded in what he probably thought was a deep heroic voice. The Slytherin Seeker just sighed and turned to face the Gryffindor properly. "Listen here, Potter. What I do, is none of your business so why don't you go off and shag the Weaslette before someone beats you at it."

It just so happened that at that particular moment, Ron Weasley and his faithful Granger showed up. Needless to say, the Slytherins were kept from fulfilling _the plan_.

FIFTY FIVE MINUTES, A HEX, A BLOODY NOSE AND A DETENTION SLIP LATER

"Well, we finally reached the owelry, in relative peace," Pansy stated, the only member in the entire group to not have been threatened with any kind of body harm. She then tugged a rather ruffled letter out of her pocket and cooed at the school owls until she had convinced one to extend its leg. Pansy had a reputation.

"Draco," Crabbe started, "what exactly was the plan about?"

The other sighed. Crabbe was always the slowest on the uptake.

"Crabbe my idiotic friend, the plan is this and is rather simple. You no doubt remember my good old French wizarding contact Pierre Duval? Well, he always played around with muggle music and needless to say, he shall be the one to help us find songs so that we might not end up last in this blasted competition. Is that clear, Vincent?" Draco asked, his hands digging slightly into Crabbe's meaty shoulders.

Crabbe just nodded but then paused and looked at the blond with a confused gaze.

"But Draco, why is this such a great plan?" Crabbe asked.

"Because… don't ask stupid questions, Vincent," Draco glared and then walked out of the owelry.

"Uh, alright."


End file.
